


simply to fall asleep

by leetlebird



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Fluff, Future Fic, M/M, Parenthood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-06-26
Packaged: 2019-05-29 01:43:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15062324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leetlebird/pseuds/leetlebird
Summary: His life is a miracle, he thinks.**Or: Jack, Kent, and a colicky baby.





	simply to fall asleep

**Author's Note:**

> my last contribution to pimms week. today's prompt is "sleepless nights".
> 
> title is attributed to marina tsvetaeva. the full quote speaks directly to my JP-loving heart: "I want to come to you…Don’t be angry, after all it is me, but I want to sleep with you. Simply to fall asleep and sleep. […] And nothing further. No, there is something: to bury my head in your left shoulder, my arm on your right one - and nothing else. No, something else: to know in the deepest sleep that you are there. And also to hear the sound of your heart. And to kiss your heart."
> 
> so, without further ado -- jack, kent, a baby, and lots of love.

The baby is asleep.

Jack’s so happy he could kiss Kent, so he does; he stops Kent from wandering into the nursery to double-check that Eloise is truly sleeping, because the last thing they need is to wake her up again.

When they’d first realized exactly how colicky their daughter was, Jack’s parents had laughed and sent champagne -- “Something to get you through it,” Alicia had joked -- and Kent’s mother had emailed them a recipe for the homemade formula she’d used on Kent when he was an infant.

“I was worried I’d given birth to Satan those first few months,” Michelle Parson had said, laughing on their computer screen while Kent spluttered indignantly next to Jack. “The kid never stopped yelling.”

Jack had thought of Kent as he’d first met him, bragging about how fast he was before their first practice, getting drunk and trying to start karaoke at a team party, arguing with Jack about offensive plays in the middle of sex, and he hadn’t been surprised. 

Now, he wraps his arms around Kent and guides him to their bedroom. The sheets are rumpled; the bed hasn’t been made in at least a month. Somehow, a colicky, screamy baby has added more stress to Jack’s daily routine than professional hockey ever could. The house is a mess, he barely has time for a sex life, let alone any hobbies, and he can’t even remember what it’s like to sleep through the night.

He wouldn’t change it for the world.

“Jack,” Kent says. He’s already lying down, apparently going to sleep in the clothes he wore all day. “Come ‘ere, I miss you.” 

Neither of them has gone farther than the grocery store or the park all day, but Jack knows what Kent means. It’s been days since they had any real time alone together, and weeks since they had sex properly.

“I’m here,” Jack says now, crawling into bed and spooning up behind Kent. It would be nice to have sex tonight, he thinks, vague and a bit detached, but he can’t really imagine having the energy. It’s difficult enough just to keep his eyes open. 

Kent wriggles around in Jack’s arms, and Jack shifts to give him room. Flipped around so they’re face-to-face, Kent moves close so their noses are just touching. 

Jack can’t help himself from rubbing their noses together, and he smiles at Kent’s quiet, responding giggle. “Hey,” he whispers, and inches forward to get his mouth on Kent.

The kiss is sloppy, more due to exhaustion than anything, and neither of them had remembered to brush their teeth before collapsing in bed, but Jack doesn’t want it to ever stop.

“Mm,” Kent whispers, barely getting the words out around Jack’s lips, “I love -- you -- feels nice --”

Jack sighs into Kent’s mouth, affectionate and a little disappointed, as he recognizes the moment that Kent falls asleep. Still, tucked against his husband, Kent’s sleepy breath warm on his skin and with the comforting crackle of the baby monitor a steady presence on the nightstand, Jack burrows his face into Kent’s neck and falls easily to sleep.

  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


* * * * * 

  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


  


Kent is still warm in his arms when Jack wakes up to the sound of the baby monitor, staticky and screaming. It’s become one of the more familiar sounds of Jack’s life, and over the past month he and Kent have already passed through the level of exhaustion where the noise brings them to frustrated tears. At this point, they’re simply resigned. 

“No,” Kent mumbles. He flips over and hides his head under a pillow.

“Kenny.”

“ _No._ ”

“Kenny, it’s your turn.” Jack is too tired to keep the impatience completely out of his voice.

It takes a little bit of kicking, and a moment where Jack pulls the pillow off of Kent’s head and threatens to carry him physically from the bed, but eventually Kent concedes that it is indeed his turn to help Eloise fall back asleep.

With the other side of the bed cold, and the distant sounds of Kent whispering to Eloise coming through the monitor, Jack feels -- not wide awake, but awake enough that he notices that he’s hungry, and that he probably won’t be able to fall back asleep until he uses the bathroom.

He takes a quick piss, then stumbles downstairs to the kitchen. Kit is on the counter, where she’s not supposed to be, but Jack just gathers her close to land a little kiss on the top of her head and lets her stay up there. 

He wonders if this is a sign of the type of dad he’s going to be as Eloise grows up, permissive where Kent is strict. No one would expect that from the two of them. The idea makes Jack smile. 

There are so many signs of Kent in this room -- not just the cat, but the ridiculously expensive, high-tech microwave (“The microwave of the future,” the salesperson had said, and Kent’s eyes had lit up), the dirty dishes strewn across the counter that Jack was pretty sure Kent would _never_ remember to clean up the same day he used them, the jade plant in the window. The matching World’s Best Husband mugs that Jack pulls out now, which he fills with cider and puts in the microwave, one by one.

While the cider is heating up, Jack makes himself a sandwich and cuts it in half in case Kent wants some too. He thinks about loading the dishwasher, now that he’s down here and has a little energy, but those are Kent’s. He’s going to get Kent into the habit of cleaning up after himself by hell or high water.

Finally, the plate and two mugs balanced a little precariously in his hands, Jack climbs the stairs and goes into their bedroom. Kent isn’t back yet, so Jack eats half of his sandwich and takes a few cautious sips of the cider. It’s almost cool enough to drink comfortably.

But -- it’s hard to settle back down to sleep. Not with the other half of their bed still empty.

He misses Kent. Jack doesn’t know, anymore, how to fall asleep without Kent pressed against him, without the steady rise and fall of Kent’s breathing pulling Jack down with him. 

There’s no more crying noises coming from the monitor. Jack waits another couple minutes, finishing his cider as patiently as he can, then gets up. He can’t help it anymore.

The door to the nursery creaks as he pushes it open. It’s a familiar sound, gentle. He sees Eloise asleep in her crib, one pudgy little hand still flexing around the bars next to her. Her eyes are closed, her chest moving up and down with sleep under the ridiculous unicorn onesie that Kent bought for her. Jack’s spent so many hours watching her breathe. It’s something he does to reassure himself that she’s safe. There’s an awe in it, too, that this sweet, sleeping baby is his. Theirs.

Jack’s husband is asleep, too, just as beautiful and just as much Jack’s. Kent is curled up on the rocking chair right next to the crib, and Jack can picture him holding Eloise in his lap, rocking her gently until she falls asleep, smelling her little head just like he always does before setting her back in her crib. 

He knows he should wake Kent up, pull him back to bed, feed him the other half of Jack’s sandwich and hold him until he falls asleep for the night, but he’s so beautiful here, just as he is, that Jack can’t bring himself to move. Every blonde curl, every freckle dusting Kent’s nose, is tucked away in Jack’s heart now. He can remember pulling on those curls when they were teenagers, pressing kisses against those freckles when he finally gave himself to Kent again as adults, and it’s almost overwhelming to think he’ll have Kent, all of Kent, for the rest of his life.

Eloise coos in her sleep, and it’s enough to shake Jack back into the present. “Baby,” he whispers, careful not to wake their daughter. He crouches down in front of the rocking chair and touches Kent’s leg. “Shh, baby, wake up.”

Jack can’t help but smile when Kent’s eyes open, at how confused and sleepy his husband is. After a moment, Kent smiles back. “Jack,” he says, hoarse and soft, and he leans forward to rest his face against Jack’s chest. “Mm. Hi.”

“Hi,” Jack whispers. Kent’s hair smells like baby powder and shampoo and _Kent_ , and everything in Jack goes warm. He wraps his arms around Kent. “Time for bed.”

“Yeah,” Kent says. He kisses Jack’s neck, a soft press of lips on skin, and he lets Jack help him to his feet. “Oh, she’s beautiful.”

Jack holds onto Kent, watches Eloise as she dreams. It’s a fragile moment, but it feels strong, too. Jack could believe that their three hearts are beating at exactly the same rhythm. 

His life is a miracle, he thinks.

They watch her for a few more moments, Kent drifting a little in Jack’s arms, and then Jack folds Kent into a hug. “We’re beautiful,” Jack whispers against Kent’s neck, which isn’t exactly what he meant to say, but it’s true. “I love you.”

Kent closes his eyes, leaning against Jack for a moment; then he takes Jack’s hand and brings him back to their room. They both are silent, and Jack thinks it’s more from emotion than trying not to wake Eloise. 

When Kent is settled under the covers again, staring up at Jack in a way that sets Jack’s heart off, Jack takes a deep breath. He has to look away to speak. “I have a sandwich for you,” he says. “Are you hungry?”

Kent holds his hands out, not answering with words. Jack gives him the plate of leftovers and the other mug of cider. He turns on their lamp, turns off the overhead light. As he lies down, arranging himself against Kent’s side, he feels Kent shift a little. “Jack?”

Jack answers by trailing his hand up and down Kent’s leg, the bedspread a warm layer between them.

“I love you,” Kent whispers.

Jack never knew he could feel this much. He readjusts himself over Kent, moving the plate aside, and just -- looks. 

Sometimes he thinks Kent is magic, is the thing. How his eyes change, not just in color, but moving from teasing to devotion to laughter to desire so quickly and so honestly. The sweet curve of his nose, the precious freckles there that Jack has memorized, how his skin seems to glow. How his face was meant to be touched, meant to be under Jack’s hands. 

He’s been staring, and he can see that Kent is starting to tremble from whatever’s on Jack’s face. Jack can’t find any words to share what he’s feeling, but he kisses Kent’s eyebrows, kisses his cheekbones, kisses every angle of his cowlick. When Jack finally leans back, far enough that he can see into Kent’s eyes again, he’s shaking too.

He thinks they’re both suffering from lack of sleep. He knows that’s not what this is.

“Jack,” Kent whispers. Jack sees the tears in his eyes, the blush under his skin, the shyness in his smile, and he stores all of it in his heart, where he never thinks there’s enough room for even more of Kent but where there always is. “Jack,” Kent says, reaching up to touch Jack’s lips, “don’t forget to buy more diapers tomorrow.”

Jack breathes out, everything spilling over, and he kisses Kent’s face over and over, each kiss saying everything he can’t form in words but still not saying enough, not stopping until Kent is laughing and Jack is too tired to move.

He lies on top of Kent, feeling heavy with sleep and so much love that it must be palpable, must be adding ten pounds to his weight. “Of course, baby,” he finally says, and he settles his head onto Kent’s shoulder, his favorite place in the world, and lets himself drift to sleep.


End file.
